


Til The End of the Line

by Rattlesnake_Smile



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bearded Steve Rogers, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:56:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3136880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rattlesnake_Smile/pseuds/Rattlesnake_Smile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve thinks he may have finally found Bucky after the collapse of S.H.E.I.L.D.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Til The End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, and I kid you not, this whole thing came about because I wanted a story with Steve and a beard. I mean, have you seen Chris Evans with a beard. Good, God almighty! It was once stated on Tumblr that Chris Evans is the guy you take home to meet you family, however, bearded Chris Evans is the guy you take home to fuck you into the mattress... or couch, or against the wall, on the coffee table, against the fridge, in dark alleys, pretty much anywhere. So, to make a long story short, I wrote bearded Steve.

At a glance, one would never suspect that this man was Steve Rogers. I mean, what would Captain America be doing in Siberian Russia in the middle of winter? After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. everyone knew who he was and the kind of missions he was sent on. Plus, all the governments encompassed by the World Security Council were trying to lay low in the aftermath. So, if anyone were to recognize this man as the world's first Super Soldier, they would probably realize he wasn't here on official government business.

Now, you may be asking yourself how _anyone_ could _not_ recognize Steve Rogers? Admit it, you were. This man was the first successful Super Soldier, almost single-handedly defeated H.Y.D.R.A. and then gave his life to protect the free world... only to come back seventy years later and lead a team of other unique individuals in the effort to save New York City (and the world) from an alien invasion.  It's hard to become more recognizable than that. To answer your question (asked or not) Captain Rogers didn't look like himself. Well, he did, but a different version of himself.

His hair was longer and now a nice, medium brown, bundled up under a knit cap that came down over his ears to keep them warm in the brutal Russian cold, throwing off anyone who would be looking for his well publicized golden locks. The other major difference that made the All-American Hero unrecognizable was the beard. Not a full on wizard beard, but a nice coating of brown scruff covering his chin and upper lip. He looked like a lumberjack... clarify: a hot lumberjack. And finally, all those muscles were covered up in many layers of dark clothing, protecting him against the bitter wind rising out of the canyon he was standing over.

Steve sighed, looking around at the snow-covered mountains rising all around him and then down the steep canyon below, along with the train track that wound through it. He had to tear his gaze away and direct it at the iron gray sky, the memory of Bucky's fall, his hand outstretched for Steve, still too fresh in his mind. Sure, that was over seventy years ago, but being frozen in ice for that same amount of time does weird things to one's perception of time. Go figure.

While he was lost in his own head, Sam approached from behind, the soft crunch of boots in snow deliberate so as not to startle Steve.

"You think he's here?" Sam asked, raising his gloved hands to his face to blow hot air into his cupped palms, his breath clouding the air around him.

"It's the last place on the list." Steve kept his voice steady. Neutral. Neither hopeful or disappointed. That was the key to this: to not get emotional. To not think about the friend he lost all those years ago. This was simply another mission. A self-imposed one, yes, but the point still stood. Emotional detachment was key. Not that it was really working. After all, this was Bucky! But, despite his internal drama, Steve at least managed to look the part of detached.

"The last place where all the Commandos were together?" Sam asked, getting a silent nod from the legend standing a few feet away. Not long after the collapse of S.H.E.I.L.D., there was a rumored sighting of the Winter Soldier in Paris and then again at another former H.Y.D.R.A. base. Putting one and two together, Steve deduced that Bucky was revisiting all the places the Howling Commandos had to while on missions, as well as the bars they'd hit while on leave.

Hopefully, Bucky's memory was coming back. Steve didn't want to get his hopes up that his friend's memory was coming back all on it's own, but that was the place his mind jumped too every time he thought about it. But, even if that were the case, the Winter Soldier was still there as well, because once Steve was on his trail, trying to lay in wait at the next point on the map, Bucky was always just out of reach, moving like the ghost he'd been for so long. It was almost as if he knew Steve was looking for him and had decided to play some international game of "Catch Me If You Can."

Steve sighed in defeat, shoving his own gloved hands in his pockets. This was the _end of the line_. The last place Bucky and Steve had been together on a mission. Before he'd become the Winter Soldier. Shaking his head, Steve turned toward Sam, the darker-skinned man standing back a respectable distance but watching him with concerned eyes.

"Let's get back to town." Steve said, putting on a faint smile. "I could use a drink or two," He clapped Sam on the back as the two retraced their own steps back to their truck. "Or twelve." This earned a deep, genuine laugh from the Airman, the sound echoing through the mountains.

 

*** * ***

A few hours and one bumpy ride later, Steve sat at the bar of the local inn, removing his hat and gloves and then running his hand through his now brown hair to settle it in place. Once he deemed himself presentable, he motioned to the barman for a bottle of vodka, while Sam tried to get them some rooms. After haggling with the owner, Sam walked over to Steve to hand him his key before retreating to his own room to take a long, hot shower. For his part, Steve sat at the end of the bar, ignoring everyone and trying (unsuccessfully) to drown his disappointment in shot after shot of vodka. He was so immersed in his drink that he barely took notice when someone took the seat to his right.

"You colored your hair?" It should have been a statement, especially in that familiar voice, but it had the ring of a question to it.

Steve froze, show of vodka halfway to his lips. It could be the drink affecting his mind (unlikely), or it could have been his mind trying to make it something it wasn't, but that voice was too damn familiar. While he mentally fought the instinct to look, as opposed to not getting his hopes up, a man's hand took the shot glass from Steve. The All-American followed the hand with his eyes as it retreated, and watched as it tipped the clear liquor down an equally familiar mouth. The entire time, those blue, _blue_ eyes never looked away from Steve.

"Bucky?" Steve couldn't stop himself, his voice hesitant and soft.

"Hey, Steve." The other man responded, that familiar easy grin on his stubbled face, though unfamiliar shadows lurked in and around his eyes. Steve still didn't move, simply staring at the other man, watching as those eyes flickered over him, taking everything in before the grin melted into something more reminiscent of a smirk. "Nice beard."

Steve blinked.

Blinked again.

And before he could stop himself, Steve laughed. He laughed long and loud, causing the bar to look over and Bucky to eventually join in when Steve kept going, unable to stop himself. After a few minutes, Steve leaned over, still fighting his laugher to knock his head against Bucky's shoulder, trying to hid the tears lingering at the corners of his eyes.

"God, I missed you." Steve eventually said when he got himself under control.

"'To the end of the line.'" Bucky parroted Steve's last words to him in DC. "Right?"

"To the end of the line." Steve agreed, already reaching for the bottle to pour them both another round.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please review. Not to sound like a little bitch, but I work hard on a lot of my stories and I get practically no feedback. If I just wanted to write for myself, I could do that without posting these online.


End file.
